Bedtime
by Marie Tomas
Summary: After a night of drinking, Sam and Dean accidentally cuddle. Sam secretly likes it, but Dean seems to hate it. Then it happens again, and again, and again.
1. Bedtime

**Disclaimer:** Sam and Dean Winchester belong to the writers and creators of Supernatural.

**Notes:** This fan fiction is also posted on my Ao3 account. It can be interpreted as Wincest, but the main focus is Sam's brotherly bond with Dean and the brotherly love.

* * *

><p><strong>Bedtime<strong>

* * *

><p>The first time the cuddling happened, Sam and Dean were drunk.<p>

They finished a successful hunt, and the two of them checked into the only motel they could find, before they headed to the nearest bar, both of them eager to celebrate and release some of the adrenaline through drinking and staying up late, and, in Dean's case, through flirting with hot women and getting laid.

Unfortunately, the only bar in the small town was full of older guys, with no women in sight as Sam looked around at all the men, hunched over their tables and bar stools in their tight-knit groups, drinking and playing poker and ignoring the Winchesters.

It was lucky, really, that they still felt like they were riding high after their hunt, because it meant that the whole thing seemed kind of hilarious, especially when they drank beer after beer, and Dean got louder and louder, eventually staggering over to a couple of the men and challenging them to a game of poker, still winning the game even though he could barely stand up, and Sam just laughed at his brother like he was the funniest person ever, noting that the room looked a little blurry as he moved around in his seat to look at Dean.

Then they left the bar and stumbled back to their motel room, leaning on each other for support, still laughing at the recent memory of one of the poker-playing men yelling at Dean.

It turned out to be kind of difficult to remove their clothing so that they could get into their beds, and Dean ended up kicking off his boots so hard that they hit the nearest wall, and his leather jacket and jeans ended up getting thrown somewhere near his bed, and Sam fell over three times in an attempt to remove his own jeans before crawling into his bed, with Dean laughing at him the whole time.

They were so drunk that Sam barely noticed when Dean fell down onto Sam's queen-sized bed instead of getting into his own, and he was too tired to tell Dean to go away when they both started to drift off to sleep on top of the covers of Sam's bed, with hardly any space between the two of them.

The next morning, as a few rays of sunlight crept in through a gap in the drapes, Sam was vaguely aware of the fact that even though his mouth was dry and his head was pounding, he felt really calm and comfortable, as though he'd had a good night's sleep for the first time in months, maybe even years, and also that there was something that definitely didn't feel like a blanket wrapped around his legs.

He was just about to let himself fall back asleep again for another couple hours, but then a gasp and a loud, indignant cry of, "Dude!" from somewhere above his head startled him back into consciousness.

He looked up, as quickly as he could with his sore head, only to see Dean staring back at him in wide-eyed shock.

In a matter of seconds, Sam realized that Dean's face was so close because Sam had managed to move right over to his brother's side of the bed at some point in the night, moving so close that they were actually _cuddling_, even though he was almost certain that Dean didn't cuddle anyone anymore, even though they hadn't done anything like this since they were kids; but Sam didn't know what else he could call it, because his head was on Dean's shoulder, he had an arm wrapped around his brother's waist and a hand holding on tight to the fabric of Dean's t-shirt, like he was afraid that Dean would leave, and, instead of the blanket, which they had apparently managed to throw on top of themselves during the night while asleep, Sam's legs were wrapped around _Dean's legs_.

At the exact same time, the two of them leaped apart and jumped out of bed.

"Dude!" Sam managed to splutter, so influenced by Dean's negative reactions to any displays of affection (or 'touchy-feely crap', as Dean called it) that he couldn't help but mimic his brother's response.

The two of them stared at each other from opposite sides of the bed, Dean looking flushed, and Sam trying not to blush. It was as though they were two lovers caught in some kind of illicit act, rather than two brothers who had simply ended up sharing a bed one night in a motel room and accidentally cuddling.

Sam knew that most people wouldn't really see it as a big deal, that it probably _wouldn't _have been a big deal if it had happened with anyone else, or more specifically, anyone else who Sam would normally have shared his bed with in the recent past, like girlfriends or close friends. But Dean always had to make things like this into a _huge _deal, especially now that they were adults, no doubt shaped by their father's lack of patience for showing affection, or for doing _anything_ that wasn't considered 'manly'. Hell, Dean would only agree to a _hug_ if one of them had come back from the dead.

"Dude, what the-" Dean started to accuse Sam, his eyes flickering nervously from side to side, like a wild animal that might bolt at any moment, before Sam quickly interrupted his older brother with a, "Hey! It's not _my_ fault!"

Because it _wasn't _Sam's fault; Sam was pretty sure of it. Okay, he might have moved closer to Dean in the night without realizing, but Dean had been the one to fall asleep in Sam's bed _in the first place_, and they had _both_ been drunk, anyway.

He was almost tempted to shout, "You started it!" at his brother, like he always used to do when they were kids, but he doubted it would help the situation very much, or make either of them look any less like immature kids.

"Dean?" he ended up asking instead, suddenly remembering just how much his head hurt. "Can we _please_ not get into a fight about this? It's early, and I feel like crap…"

"Fine, yeah, whatever," Dean sighed, his voice still sounding too high-pitched to be considered calm. "Let's just…uh...forget about it, okay?"

"Sure," Sam responded, trying to make his nod of agreement look as casual as possible.

With that, Dean walked awkwardly across the room in the direction of the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with Sam.

Sam couldn't help sighing as Dean slammed the bathroom door shut. He wasn't disappointed that it happened, he was disappointed that even though he had reacted in exactly the same way as Dean, secretly, he had sort of _enjoyed_ it; he kind of wanted to do it again.

Judging by Dean's reaction, however, that wasn't going to happen. Ever again.

* * *

><p>The second time, Dean was cold. Real cold.<p>

One of their more difficult hunts ended up with Dean being thrown into a lake, and he emerged shaking and shivering, insisting to Sam that he was fine, even though his lips kind of looked like they were turning blue.

Although Sam kept the heating on full blast while he drove the Impala, searching for the nearest motel to check into, Dean was still shaking with cold when they pulled into a motel parking lot.

When they finally went into their motel room, Sam tried everything he could think of to get Dean warm, from asking for extra blankets, to letting Dean use all of the hot water in the shower, and even insisting that Dean wore Sam's largest hoodie over his layers of pajamas.

Yet none of it seemed to work, because Sam woke from his light sleep at some time around midnight only to notice that Dean still seemed to be shaking under his blankets and taking short, sharp breaths.

Without thinking about it, Sam got out of his own bed and quietly got into Dean's.

Acting on instinct and his limited knowledge of sharing body heat, he reached out for Dean so that he could pull him closer to his chest, eventually lining their bodies up so that they were lying back-to-chest, wrapping an arm firmly around Dean's waist and pulling the blankets around the two of them.

He fully expected Dean to protest or push him away, but Sam decided that Dean must have needed the extra warmth more than Sam had first thought, because his brother stayed quiet, only letting out a soft sigh, before he fell asleep minutes later.

Sam remained awake for at least an hour after Dean fell asleep, too worried about Dean's well-being to relax. It was only when Dean's breathing evened out and he felt his brother getting warm again that Sam finally allowed himself to start falling asleep, too.

He didn't even think about getting back into his own bed.

He was surprised when he woke up the next morning to find that they were still in the same position, with only a few minor changes, the main ones being that Sam had also wrapped one of his legs around Dean as well as his arm, and he was sort of nuzzling into the back of Dean's neck, enjoying the feeling of Dean's soft hair brushing against his face.

Now that the worry about Dean being cold was over, Sam was also fully aware of how comfortable it felt to be lying in bed like this with Dean so close to him, holding his older brother in his arms.

This position really seemed to work for them, especially as Sam was taller than Dean; they seemed to fit so perfectly together, and Sam started to think about how nice it might be to do this more often, to be able to do something that would offer a form of comfort to Dean, especially on the nights when Dean was feeling cold, or sick.

Dean always did everything for Sam, he always put him first, and as much as Sam appreciated it, he always wished that he could do something in return; he wished that Dean would just let his guard down, for once, so that Sam could play big brother every once in a while, so that they could take care of _each other_.

Sam doubted that Dean would agree with any of his ideas though, and he knew that their sleeping position could no longer even be counted as sharing body heat, because it definitely looked a lot more like they were spooning, and Sam was pretty certain that Dean would _never _willingly agree to be the little spoon with anyone.

That was the reason why, when he felt Dean shift slightly and raise his head a little like he was starting to wake up, Sam quickly closed his eyes, loosened his grip on Dean's waist and pretended to be asleep, in the hope of avoiding any arguments or awkwardness like the first time they accidentally cuddled, and also as a way of letting Dean make the decision to either get out of the bed-seemingly without Sam's knowledge, as far as Dean would know- with minimum embarrassment, or to simply go back to sleep.

Sam was almost concerned by how much he was wishing that Dean would just go back to sleep and let them both have a couple more hours like this, now that they almost had the excuse, this time, that the cuddling was for health reasons, rather than as a result of 'chick flick like' motivations, and also because it was so unlikely that Sam would ever get to do the whole spooning thing with Dean again, and Sam just wanted to make the most of it while he could.

However, unsurprisingly, Sam felt Dean's whole body tense, then he sighed- a sigh that sounded nothing like his soft sigh from a few hours ago-before he wriggled out of Sam's grip and got out of the bed.

Sam kept his eyes closed and tried not to sigh in disappointment when he heard Dean get into Sam's vacated bed on the other side of the room.

* * *

><p>The third time, the motel room only had one king-sized bed.<p>

Sam knew for sure that there was only a king-sized bed in the only remaining motel room, because the desk clerk mentioned this seemingly unimportant fact _repeatedly_ while Dean argued with him.

It was only after the angry desk clerk repeated, for the fifth time, that the next nearest motel was over a hundred miles away, and he mixed in a few threats to throw the two of them out, that Dean finally agreed to take the room.

Then there were even more disagreements once they got into the room, where Dean insisted that he would be fine sleeping on the floor, or in the Impala, but Sam flat-out refused, still too concerned about Dean after the recent thrown-in-a-lake-by-an-angry-demon-incident, because since then, Dean seemed to catch colds and fevers all the time, and Sam wasn't going to take any chances and let his brother spend the night on a cold floor or in a cold car.

He even offered to sleep on the floor himself, in the hope that his offer would persuade Dean to get into the warm bed, but Dean wouldn't even hear of it, and Sam knew that Dean's older brother instincts just wouldn't allow him to sleep in a bed while his little brother slept on a cold floor.

Which was why, after almost an hour of arguing, the two of them both ended up sharing the king-sized bed, lying at opposite ends, like they were trying to get as far away from one another as they could, both of them staying awake for what felt like hours, staring up at the ceiling, while Sam could almost feel an awkward undercurrent of tension pass between them.

It wasn't like Sam expected any cuddling to happen, not after Dean's not-so-happy reactions to the last two incidents, added to the fact that they'd been arguing so much lately, but it didn't stop Sam from placing a pillow between him and Dean the moment Dean went to sleep, as an attempt to block his body from moving closer to Dean in the night. He also gripped the bed sheet tightly in his right hand, as yet another method of remaining on his side of the bed.

Sam gradually fell asleep to the repeated chant of, _Don't cuddle Dean, don't cuddle Dean _in his own head.

It was therefore really surprising for Sam to wake up in the middle of the night, only to smell the unmistakably familiar scent of his big brother, right up close.

Sam panicked and tried to sit up, worrying that his body had managed to break the rules and cuddle Dean in the night; but he was prevented from moving by a weight across his side. The weight wasn't uncomfortable, but it was significant enough to prevent him from moving around too much.

Slowly, cautiously, Sam looked down. The first thing he saw was his brother's hair, and then his freckles, and eventually, his sleep-fogged mind worked out that this time, _Dean_ had moved to _Sam's_ side of the bed; Dean had put his head on Sam's shoulder, Dean had an arm around Sam's waist, Dean was snoring softly, nuzzling into Sam's neck, and the pillow between the two of them had apparently disappeared from the bed.

Instantly, Sam felt a rush of affection, taking in the look of innocence, the flicker of peacefulness, on Dean's face. And he felt so content, so _happy _that he'd got a few hours of undisturbed sleep, happy that he felt like he was taking care of Dean again, happy that he was participating in something that might be making Dean feel more relaxed as well.

He also felt a faint flicker of hope; hope that maybe Dean had decided that he liked the cuddling after all. Maybe he had _intentionally_ moved closer to Sam. Maybe all the awkwardness about cuddling was coming to an end.

He couldn't bring himself to move Dean away, or wake Dean up, so he simply pulled Dean in closer and went back to sleep, keeping his fingers crossed that things wouldn't be weird in the morning, that Dean would still be in the bed with him.

He simply sighed in defeat the next morning when he woke up to find Dean sleeping on the floor.

* * *

><p>The fourth time, the two of them were watching a movie together.<p>

Sam thought that it was kind of nice, really, to be sitting next to his brother on a motel room sofa and just relaxing for the evening, especially after weeks of long and tiring hunts, and everything seeming really tense and awkward between the two of them, and also the fact that Sam felt like he hadn't slept properly in a long time.

He wasn't even expecting the cuddling to happen again, because Dean now made a point of only ever checking into motels if the desk clerk could _guarantee_ that there would be two beds in the room, or if not, he would ask for two rooms. One time, Dean had even driven around for what felt like hours, looking for another motel after it turned out that there were only rooms with king-sized beds available at one motel, with Sam sulking in the passenger seat the whole time.

Besides, as the cuddling had previously only happened while they slept in motel beds, Sam wasn't even thinking about the possibility of it happening on a sofa.

So he didn't think too much about it when he started to drift off to sleep in the middle of the movie, leaning on the arm of the sofa and stretching his legs out on the floor.

It was only when he started to wake up again that he was vaguely aware of two things: the first was that he was really comfortable, the second was that something about his sleeping position felt…different.

He felt warm, even though he was almost certain that there were no blankets on the sofa, and there was something that definitely didn't feel like a pillow under his head, and he could hear a soft, steady rhythm in his ear, like he was listening to someone else's heartbeat, and he was almost sure that he could feel a hand running slowly, hesitantly through his hair.

Then, he woke up fully, and his awareness was right back in the now-dark room, and it only took seconds for him to work out what had happened, helped along in his realization by his brother's exasperated sigh.

He must have moved out of his seated position at some point during his nap, because he was now lying down on the sofa, or more specifically, he was lying on top of _Dean_, with his head on Dean's chest, and his legs between Dean's.

It had been one of Sam's favourite sleeping positions as a kid, and now he was apparently trying to recreate it, even though he was probably too tall for the sofa anyway, and too heavy for Dean, and Dean was looking as awkward and as embarrassed as Sam felt, like he just wanted Sam to move away from him, and definitely like he didn't want to talk about any of it with Sam.

It was like Sam couldn't help himself anymore; like his body just automatically gravitated towards Dean the second his mind relaxed and he wasn't thinking so hard about everything. It was as though his body had been reminded of how much Sam used to love cuddling with his big brother as a kid, how much Sam had missed it as he got older, and now his subconscious was trying to force him back into it.

Unlike Dean, Sam didn't really give in to the usual vices much; he could control his junk food cravings, his alcohol intake, his sexual impulses-when it came to turning down opportunities for one night stands in favour of a relationship, anyway. However, the cuddling was fast becoming Sam's addiction, which had to be one of the most embarrassing realizations in Sam's life. Ever.

To save them both the embarrassment of Dean having to tell Sam to move away, Sam got up without a word and headed to the bathroom, planning on taking a long shower so that he wouldn't have to look at Dean for a while.

"Sam…"

He heard Dean's voice calling out to him, quietly, in barely more than a whisper.

Sam stopped and turned his head to look at Dean for a few moments, who was still lying on the sofa like he was unable to move; but Sam could barely stand the expression of pity aimed at him, so he didn't give Dean the opportunity to say whatever it was that he was about to say. Instead, he settled for slamming the bathroom door shut, and using up all of the hot water.

* * *

><p>Things were definitely tense between them.<p>

They went for days without any meaningful communication, apart from shrugs or grunts or nods of the head, and everything felt really uncomfortable and awkward.

To make things worse, Sam was getting mad, really mad. His anger seemed to grow and increase the longer the weird stand-off between him and Dean went on, and it definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Sam could no longer get a good night's sleep anywhere; instead, he spent the nights tossing and turning in every uncomfortable motel room bed, his head full of memories of his childhood, when he had crawled into Dean's bed every time he had a nightmare, with Dean pulling back the covers without hesitation every single time and pulling Sam in close.

Dean had never pushed Sam away or got annoyed by the cuddling back them, if his soft smile every time Sam got into his bed was anything to go by, and as far as Sam could remember, Dean had slept just as well as him, as he always went right back to sleep as soon as Sam was comfortable in his brother's bed.

Sometimes, Dean had just known by instinct that Sam was having a bad day, or that the other kids at school had been mean to him, and his big brother would simply mutter, kindly but firmly, "Come on, Sammy, bedtime," before he got Sam ready for bed and then climbed in with him, holding him close and practically rocking him to sleep, offering comfort and protection.

Sam couldn't help wondering when things had changed; if there had been an exact moment when Dean decided that he no longer wanted Sam sleeping that close to him, a moment when he started to get embarrassed and ashamed of any form of physical affection between him and his brother, a moment when he decided that he hated cuddling, a moment when he started to push Sam away.

When the accidental cuddling first started, Sam had just wanted to figure out a way to make sure that the cuddling didn't happen again, to find a way to get to sleep at night without having to depend on the physical contact with Dean. But now, as he thought about the past, and how much things had changed now that they were adults, he just felt sad, and angry, that Dean seemed to hate it so much, that he seemed to hate having Sam so close to him.

* * *

><p>The days went on and on, and the tense silence continued, and Sam's anger built up steadily, like it was preparing for some sort of explosive release.<p>

It was easier, in a way, when Dean was mad instead of Sam, because in those scenarios, Sam knew that he could always get Dean to calm down, eventually; he could offer words of reassurance, or a voice of reason, or calmly get Dean to finally admit that something was wrong.

Yet when Sam was angry, Dean just seemed to shut down, stand back and wait right until the last minute, when Sam would inevitably snap and start yelling about why he was mad in the first place.

This time, Sam could only watch and get madder and madder while Dean made a conscious effort not to get drunk, while Dean wrapped up in extra layers, keeping himself warm, while Dean refused to take any motel rooms with only one bed, while Dean sat on his bed when they watched TV, leaving Sam alone on the sofa.

* * *

><p>Gradually, things started to improve a little between the two of them. They went on more hunts, they talked about the towns that they needed to drive to, they talked about Sam's research and their witness interviews.<p>

After they completed yet another hunt, Dean suggested that they eat at a nearby diner, and Sam wondered if the food was going to be some sort of peace offering.

While they looked for an available table, Sam thought that Dean looked almost like his old self again, because he swaggered confidently around the room, back in his jeans and leather jacket instead of his many layers of clothes, attracting the attention of most of the women sitting at the tables. He even winked flirtatiously at one of the pretty waitresses, who blushed and grinned and quickly found a free table for the two of them, brushing her hand against Dean's arm as she pointed out the specials on the menu.

The only thing that was different about Dean was that there were dark circles under his eyes, almost as though he hadn't been sleeping well.

The waitress returned with their drinks, smiling at Dean again, and Sam already had a feeling that his brother would be going home with this waitress at some point in the evening. Especially as Dean hadn't hooked up with anyone for weeks, as far as Sam knew.

Sam had never really thought much about Dean's hook ups before, he just considered it a fact of life that Dean would always end up with the prettiest woman in the room wherever they went after their hunts, but now, for some strange reason, he was wondering if Dean would stay the whole night with her, if they would sleep close together, if Dean would enjoy it, cuddling with her while he slept, after they woke up…

"Dammit, Dean, why have we gotta do this every single time?! Every time we do… do _something _that _you_ don't think is manly enough?!"

The words were out of Sam's mouth before he could stop himself, weeks of tension and sleepless nights crashing together into one explosion.

An uncomfortable silence quickly descended on the diner, and all of the customers around them stopped what they were doing and stared at Sam and Dean in shock.

It was nothing, however, to the look of horror on Dean's face. His eyes were wide with panic, and his face was starting to go red.

"Not here, Sam," his older brother whispered frantically, already looking mortified, but not exactly looking surprised by Sam's sudden outburst, apparently working out exactly what Sam was referring to without Sam having to spell it out directly.

But Sam was already too far into it now to be able to stop. "Why not here?" he snapped. "It's not like you'll talk to me back at the motel, not really. Things have been weird between us for months! Ever since-"

"Sam!" Dean snapped at him warningly.

Sam almost felt sorry for him, because Sam's public meltdown definitely had to be embarrassing for Dean, and he knew that he'd only make things worse if he mentioned the word 'cuddling' in a busy diner, when it already probably looked, to the unknowing customers, like they were having some kind of lovers' spat, rather than the Winchester version of a brotherly argument. But he was too angry about Dean's distance and coldness to fully take pity on him.

"Why can't we just have this, why can't we just enjoy something for us, without all of this stupid tension? Would it be _so_ bad, to just do something calm and relaxing that we like-"

"That _you_ like, Sam," Dean corrected him firmly, and Sam felt his heart break a little, because yeah, it _was_ just something that he liked, because Dean always responded like he hated it, because Dean had never said that he enjoyed it, and maybe that was part of Sam's problem; and maybe he was kind of being selfish, expecting Dean to just go along with something that he didn't want to do just because Sam did, falling back into his childhood behaviour and expecting Dean to also return to their childhood dynamic.

"Right, yeah," Sam muttered, brought back to the harsh reality of the situation and stunned into a weird sense of calmness by Dean's words, trying to get his voice to return to normal, while Dean shifted uncomfortably, looking suspiciously like he had something else to say, but he wouldn't allow himself to say it, in public.

Sam got up from his seat, now feeling kind of embarrassed that everyone was watching them. "I'm not really hungry anymore, Dean. I'm going back to the motel; I'll see you later, or tomorrow, whatever."

Dean just stayed silent, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Sam walked away from the table. He knew that he was sulking, but he couldn't help it. He left the diner and started to head back towards the motel, looking back in time to see his older brother leaving with the waitress.

* * *

><p>That night, Sam couldn't sleep. He had tried, he really had, and he was so exhausted, but he couldn't do anything except move around and roll over and throw a pillow on the floor in frustration.<p>

After his argument with Dean, he had half-considered finding a pretty waitress of his own to take back to the motel room, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Anyway, he had decided that it might sound kind of weird, if he tried to explain that he wanted to take her to bed in the hope that she might help him to _sleep _better, rather than help him to get laid.

Besides, after his few one night stands since he first returned to hunting with Dean, Sam was already done with them. He didn't want a random stranger in his bed, he wanted someone he knew and cared about, someone he loved, someone who would hold him and protect him when he had nightmares, someone who he could comfort in return. He wanted to listen to the steady rhythm of a heartbeat lulling him to sle-

"Dammit!" Sam groaned, as he covered his eyes with his hands, his voice thick with realization.

Eventually, he closed his eyes, and he was just sort of drifting off to sleep when suddenly, he was startled awake by the sound of the door crashing open.

"Couldn't fucking sleep, Sam! Haven't been able to get to sleep anywhere else since…"

"Huh?" Sam asked, feeling drowsy and confused as he tried to focus his eyes in the direction of the loud voice, and he noticed the unmistakable silhouette of his brother, standing in the doorway.

Apparently, Dean hadn't been prepared for Sam being half-asleep, because his body language changed; he folded his arms protectively, he ducked his head and he looked kind of embarrassed.

"Couldn't sleep," Dean muttered, his voice now a lot quieter as he closed the door softly. "I tried, and just…uh…couldn't. Not without, uh, you know, yeah…"

They continued to stare at each other from across the motel room, and Sam wondered if Dean felt as confused by what was going on as he did.

Finally, Dean broke the silence. "You…uh…you got any room in there?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of Sam's bed, still looking at the floor.

And Sam got it. He finally got it.

Dean _liked_ it. He liked cuddling with Sam. He had liked it all along. Maybe he liked it even more than Sam did, judging by the current guilty expression on his face.

But Dean being Dean, he had to resist it and deny it and push his feelings down _because_ he liked it, the way he did with everything he liked, everything he felt he didn't deserve, everything that might have attracted their dad's disapproval, everything that could make Dean look weak, vulnerable, not as strong a hunter as he always had been, everything that might be abruptly taken away without warning, 'everything' that might make him break down all of his walls, all of his barriers, only to leave for Stanford and vow never to return in an outburst of anger, leaving Dean broken.

Sam got it. He finally got it.

He wanted to cry, or laugh, or jump up and down on the bed, or run to Dean and hug him, promise that he would never leave again, that he would sleep by Dean's side every night, if that's what he wanted, just like when they were kids; but he knew that he couldn't do any of that, not when Dean was already looking kind of terrified, his eyes flickering in every direction as though he might still decide to run away at any moment. Sam knew that if he tried to turn this into some sort of chick flick moment, Dean would only get embarrassed and push him away again.

Instead, Sam closed his eyes, laid back down, whispered, "Sure," and patted his arm gently, casually, on the bed, discreetly inviting Dean to get in.

He sensed more than heard Dean kicking off his boots, removing his jeans and jacket, taking slow steps towards the bed. Then, the room went silent and Sam half-opened his eyes to see Dean standing by the bed, looking all hesitant, like he wasn't fully sure if he could take the last step.

"Come on, De," Sam muttered, kindly but firmly, the way Dean used to say it when they were kids. "_Bedtime_."

With that, Dean pulled the covers back and slowly got into the bed, taking his time moving towards Sam.

It was only when Dean was right up close that Sam reached out so that he could pull Dean in, and thankfully, Dean just went along with it, leaning his head on Sam's shoulder, and even reaching for Sam's hand the moment Sam closed his eyes so that their fingers could intertwine.

"Bedtime," Dean repeated, placing a soft kiss on Sam's neck, before they both fell asleep.


	2. Double Bed Time

**Double Bed Time**

* * *

><p>"Dean, there's only one bed."<p>

It was all that Sam could think to say as he opened the door to his and Dean's latest motel room and he surveyed the double bed, positioned right in the middle of the room.

He heard Dean sigh behind him. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," his brother grumbled sarcastically. "The desk clerk said that this was the only room they had left," he continued, sounding annoyed. "What's the big deal?"

Sam glared at Dean as he pushed past him to get into the room. He knew that his brother kind of had a point, though, when he put it like that, because Dean could see with his own eyes that there was one bed in the room, the way he always could whenever they ended up in motel rooms with only one bed, and it _was_ pretty plausible that there wouldn't be any rooms left with two queen-sized beds, especially when they had arrived late at the motel. It was just that the _there-was-only-one-bed _explanation seemed to have been given _a lot_ lately, at almost every motel. And the beds seemed to have got progressively smaller every single time.

"What I mean is," Sam continued, feeling like he had to explain himself further, so that he didn't look like an idiot, "there was only one bed in the last motel room, and the motel room before that…and the one before that, I think."

"So?" Dean asked him gruffly, and Sam could tell that there was something a little…_off_ in Dean's voice. It sounded like he was irritated, or like he was maybe getting defensive.

"So…nothing," Sam replied quickly, already feeling like he had unintentionally said the wrong thing, or that he had said something to annoy Dean. "I just think it's a little weird, that the motels don't seem to have two queen-sized beds anymore…"

"I can sleep on the floor," Dean cut in, his words sounding rushed and kind of sharp.

"No!" Sam answered quickly, wanting to put a stop to that suggestion before Dean got any not-so-good ideas.

Sam instantly remembered the time when they had first started accidentally cuddling, back before Dean had silently acknowledged the fact that he liked it, back when his older brother had made a point of trying to sleep on the floor or in the Impala as much as he could to avoid any cuddles in the night, with Sam lying awake in the bed the whole time, feeling miserable and neglected.

As those memories played in his mind, Sam started to feel kind of stupid that he'd even said anything, because he really didn't want to go back to the Dean-sleeping-on-the-floor-days, and it wasn't like he was _complaining _about the double bed; it was actually kind of the exact opposite.

Ever since that night when Dean came back to their motel room and asked Sam hesitantly if he had any room in his bed, and the two of them had silently agreed that they were both okay with the cuddling, the cuddling and the spooning and the couch cuddles had happened more and more often, with neither of them having to talk about it or plan it, and Dean rarely protested or pushed Sam away now.

For the first time in what seemed like years, Sam finally felt like he was getting a good night's sleep most nights, because he felt almost like a kid again, enjoying the comfort and protection from his big brother, and all of the nights when they checked into motel rooms with one bed only served to make the cuddling so much _easier_. Even if neither of them were in the mood for sleeping really close to one another, Sam knew that he would still have the added bonus of his big brother sleeping close _enough_ to him in a king-sized bed that he could continue to feel the same sense of comfort and fall asleep to the sound of Dean's breathing.

It was never really the same now, when they were sleeping in separate beds-or worse, if Dean was sleeping on the floor.

"No," Sam repeated, for emphasis, while also trying to stop sounding like a little kid throwing a tantrum. "Dean, it's fine, I never said it was a problem…"

Dean shrugged and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed, but Sam could still tell that Dean was feeling tense, and he knew that he'd just gone and made a big deal out of something that they never felt like they _had _to talk about; something that Sam always treated as a casual, unimportant thing, so that his brother didn't suddenly decide to freak out.

He also couldn't help feeling like there was something that Dean wasn't telling him about the double bed situation.

Sam sighed to himself as he changed into his pajamas. He had a bad feeling that there wouldn't be any cuddling in their latest double bed.

That night, Sam still felt like something wasn't right with Dean. He sensed that his brother was being moody with him, and that there was some sort of weird tension between the two of them. Dean seemed determined to keep to his side of the bed, meaning that he was sleeping right on the edge of the mattress, and putting as much distance as possible between them, much to Sam's disappointment. Dean's breathing also seemed quick and agitated, and as far as Sam could tell, it took him a while to fall asleep.

Even after Dean fell asleep, Sam lay awake for what felt like hours, staring up at the ceiling, unable to relax with all of the thoughts going around in his head, and-if he were being honest-without the feeling of Dean's body pressed up next to him, without the comforting sensation of resting his head on Dean's shoulder, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist, feeling Dean's hands running soothingly through his hair.

After a little while, Sam blinked rapidly in sudden realization. He could practically see a light bulb switching on above his head, the way it did with the characters in the cartoons that he used to watch with Dean when they were kids, when the characters suddenly had a bright idea, or a moment of clarity.

Dean had _deliberately _been asking for rooms with only one bed at every motel recently. It seemed so obvious, when he thought about it. Sam couldn't explain how exactly he knew this for sure, and he knew that he would have no solid proof if he ever accused Dean of this in an argument, but he just _knew_ that _this_ is what had been happening, especially when he thought about how unlikely it was that every single motel for weeks on end would only have one room left with one double bed every night, and also when he thought about how awkward and embarrassed (and maybe even hurt) Dean had looked when Sam pointed out the fact that they seemed to end up sleeping in a double bed at every motel.

Sam then started thinking about _why_ Dean might be requesting rooms with only one bed.

Maybe Dean had been trying to take the next step by ensuring that they were already in the same bed most nights, so that the cuddling could just sort of happen naturally without the weird sneaking around from bed to bed on the nights when they both wanted the close contact, or the awkward questions about whether one of them was cold or needed warming up, or-one of Dean's favourite questions-asking Sam if he'd been having nightmares again and wanted some company or comfort.

Sam already knew that Dean liked cuddling with him, but he was also well aware of the fact that Dean would never say this directly out loud (not if he didn't have to, anyway), and it wasn't like the situation would ever be perfect, because Dean was always going to be _Dean_ when it came to things like this, and there would always be an underlying sense of tension when it came to any of the 'touchy-feely crap', and Sam decided that maybe this gesture was Dean's way of reassuring Sam without words that he really did like it, that he was okay with the physical contact, and that he wanted to cuddle more often.

And when Sam pointed out earlier that he had noticed that something didn't add up about them ending up in rooms with one bed every night, actually using the word 'weird' to describe it, and maybe even sounding confused or exasperated when he did so, it probably sent out a message to Dean that Sam was _uncomfortable_ with so much bed-sharing, that he didn't _approve_ of the increase in the nights spent cuddling, or worse, that he was growing tired of the cuddling now and wanted to put some distance between the two of them again.

And, Dean being Dean, that would have been all it took to make him feel rejected or embarrassed and instantly put the barriers back up, slowly starting to back off.

Sam fell asleep with his hands covering his eyes in frustration, feeling like an even bigger idiot.

* * *

><p>Sam really wanted to talk about last night's realization with Dean, but Dean was up early the next morning, still looking like he was irritable and on edge, and Sam knew that the discussion would be awkward enough, without having to deal with a tense Dean at the same time; and then Dean was talking about a new lead in their latest hunt, and all thoughts of cuddling temporarily vanished from Sam's mind as he went into hunter-mode and he focused fully on their latest job.<p>

It was only when they headed to a new motel room the next night (both of them feeling exhausted after the hunt) just after Dean went to check in, that Sam started to worry about the situation again.

He felt the familiar feeling of anxiety as he worried that Dean hadn't asked for one bed in the room this time, especially after last night when there had been all the tension between them and they had slept on separate sides of the bed, and, unfortunately, Sam's worst fears were confirmed when Dean opened the door to the room and Sam noticed that there were _two_ beds, with the gap between them looking huge, given the current situation.

Sam had to suppress a sigh of disappointment as he walked into the room and threw his stuff onto his bed.

He really thought that he and Dean had made progress over the past few months since they first agreed that they liked cuddling; now, as he looked from bed to bed, it felt like they had taken so many steps back that they were right back at the beginning again.

Sam was quiet for most of the evening, refusing to answer a lot of Dean's questions, and probably looking a lot like he was sulking, which was maybe kind of true. Things were made worse by the fact that Dean looked like he was kind of mad too, and he'd already been agitated and snappy with Sam through most of their hunt.

Eventually, Sam gave in and mumbled something about an early night as he quietly got into his bed.

He already knew though that he wouldn't get much sleep. It was almost scary, he realized, just how much he had come to depend on the physical contact with Dean in such a short space of time. He wasn't sure that he would be able to cope without it now.

A few hours later, Sam was still wide awake. He lay on his side and watched as Dean tossed and turned in his bed on the other side of the room, looking like he couldn't get to sleep either.

Sam started to feel confused about what was going on; he couldn't work out if Dean had deliberately asked for a room with two beds because he was mad at Sam and he therefore wanted to hurt him in return, making this a kind of twisted act of revenge, or if this was a misguided attempt from Dean to make things more comfortable for Sam, mistakenly believing that Sam was no longer happy about all the cuddling that they had been doing, and he was therefore trying to rectify the situation by silently returning to a bed on the other side of their motel rooms, maybe even putting his own feelings and his possible sense of rejection to one side.

In the end, Sam decided that he might as well try to rule out the second option, before he started to get really mad about option one.

Quietly, he pushed the covers back, got out of bed and tiptoed over to Dean's bed.

He noticed Dean's body tense up before he even lifted the covers, and Dean didn't even turn around to look at him, even though he must have had an idea what Sam was about to do, but it didn't stop Sam from sliding into Dean's bed and then slowly, carefully, laying back down on his side so that he and Dean were lying back-to-chest, and hesitantly reaching out his arms so that he could wrap them around Dean and pull his brother in closer to him.

"Dean?" he whispered after a couple of seconds, when Dean didn't offer any reaction to Sam's attempts to cuddle him. He wasn't really sure what he was actually going to say, if Dean even bothered to respond.

The silence stretched out in the cold air around them, and for a little while, Sam was convinced that Dean was going to ignore him or pretend to be asleep, so that he didn't have to deal with any potentially awkward discussions or chick-flick moments.

"Hmm?" Dean eventually asked, the tension still obvious in his body and his tone of voice.

"I…uh…t-this, _this_ is more comfortable, when we're in a double bed…when there's only one bed in the motel room…"

Sam knew that it wasn't exactly his most eloquent sentence, and he wasn't even sure if it would make sense to his brother, but he decided that it was the best explanation he could offer, without mentioning outright just how much he loved cuddling with Dean, just how much he had come to depend on it, and given the fact that he was really tired, and that Dean would get uncomfortable with anything that seemed more sappy or 'girly'.

"Hmm," Dean responded again, ambiguously, before Sam felt his breathing even out, like he was falling asleep.

Sam blinked in confusion, wondering if Dean had even got what he was trying to say, and if he _had_ got it, whether he was in agreement or not.

Sam sighed and pulled Dean in closer, deciding to make the most of the cuddling for tonight, just in case.

* * *

><p>The next evening, Sam decided to follow Dean to the motel front desk, telling himself that he was just curious to see what Dean was going to do.<p>

Dean rolled his eyes and glared at him the whole time, and Sam understood that he was annoyed by Sam's close proximity, especially when the desk clerk raised her eyebrows and smirked suggestively at the two of them like they were having some kind of couple's argument, but Sam decided that Dean's anger was definitely an improvement on their behaviour earlier in the day, when things had still been tense and awkward between the two of them, and they had spent most of the ride in the Impala in total silence.

When the desk clerk asked them what kind of room they wanted, aiming the question at Dean and looking like she kind of already knew the answer, Sam took advantage of Dean's initial embarrassed silence and attempts at awkward mumbling to cut in with, "He wants a room with a king-sized bed."

It was more of a demand than a request, and it was said with a lot more firmness than kindness, and it led to a childish response from Dean of, "No, _you_ want a king-sized bed!" like this clarification actually mattered, but it seemed to work, because the desk clerk quickly nodded and handed a room key over to Sam.

Sam almost sighed with relief, because he knew that Dean probably wouldn't have been brave enough to ask for a double bed in the end, given the circumstances, and he was kind of hoping that he'd just made another night of cuddling and closeness more likely.

Sam could tell that Dean was glaring at him again as they headed back outside, like it was Sam's fault that everybody always seemed to get the wrong impression about them, but then, as they got their stuff out of the car so that they could take it to the room, Sam noticed Dean tensing up all over again, ducking his head and looking really uncomfortable.

As they got nearer to the motel room door, Sam saw Dean looking almost longingly in the direction of the bar they'd passed on their way to the motel. A bar that Sam was pretty sure was within walking distance.

Dean looked even tenser when Sam opened the door and the two of them stared at the king-sized bed, positioned right in the middle of the room like it was the room's main feature. He saw the flicker of panic in Dean's eyes, like the situation was too much for him now.

"I'm gonna go out for a little while," Dean announced quickly, already heading out the door. Like Sam hadn't seen it coming.

Sam felt a rush of panic and he tried to think of something to say to get Dean to stay, something like an apology, now that he was starting to feel kind of guilty, or even an offer to go with his brother, but he didn't have enough time, because the door had already slammed, and he could already hear Dean's rapidly retreating footsteps.

He started to panic even more as he listened out for the sound of the Impala's engine, worried that Dean would just drive away to another motel and leave Sam alone for the night, only serving to increase the tension between the two of them.

Thankfully, the Impala remained firmly in the parking lot, and Sam decided that Dean had just headed to the bar for a much-needed drink. He then started to wonder if Dean would find someone at the bar to go home with, so that he wouldn't have to come back to the motel room, or if he would bring someone back and kick Sam out.

Just as Sam was starting to get annoyed by this possibility, he stopped himself and started to think about just how _ridiculous _this whole thing was. It was only cuddling; they did it all the time when they were kids, and they had pretty much been doing it every night for the past few months. Sure, Sam enjoyed it, and it helped him to feel relaxed and closer to Dean, but it wasn't a big deal, compared with everything else they had to face in their lives, and it wasn't something that merited endless discussions or tension or arguments.

Sam knew that it would be healthy for them, to have space at night every once in a while, and Dean had a right to put that distance there when he wanted, or to choose to share his bed with other people without Sam getting angry or moody with his brother.

He sighed, wishing that he had just gone along with Dean's discreet requests for double beds as and when he wanted them, without having to point out Dean's bed preferences out loud.

Feeling a little calmer after this realization, Sam changed into an old T-shirt and sweatpants, turned on the TV and got comfortable on the bed, spreading himself over the two sides as he made a firm decision that he would be fine about it if Dean stayed out for the night, and that he would try to get a good night's sleep, and then in the morning, he would find a way to tell Dean that the cuddling wasn't a big deal, that there was no problem if Dean needed some time apart for a little while. He also decided, with a sigh of regret, that maybe he would have to give up the cuddling or the requests for cuddles, at least on a temporary basis, if that was what was needed to work things out with Dean.

However, to Sam's surprise, less than an hour later, the door swung open, and Dean was striding purposefully across the motel room, shouting, "Move over!" bossily at Sam as he headed in the direction of the bathroom.

The moment the bathroom door slammed shut, Sam looked across the room from the main door to the bathroom in confusion, before he moved over, hesitantly, to the side of the bed that was farthest from the door.

Dean walked out of the bathroom wearing his T-shirt and sweatpants, awkwardly climbing into the bed and moving closer to Sam, keeping his eyes on the TV the whole time, like he wasn't ready to fully acknowledge the situation yet.

Sam also kept staring at the TV, trying to act casual, just in case Dean was still in freak out or run away mode.

It was only when Dean got right up close to Sam, the way he usually did at night to initiate the cuddling, that Sam reached out to pull Dean in, sensing Dean's anxiety and wanting to comfort him and take care of him for a little while.

Dean, however, tensed up and put out a hand in protest.

Sam backed off, trying his best not to sulk or get annoyed, remembering his earlier decision to give his brother space when he needed it.

Surprisingly though, Dean didn't back off; he simply reversed their positions a little so that he could pull Sam down towards his chest, maneuvering them so that Sam's head was resting on Dean's shoulder, the way they used to sleep when they were kids.

Sam got what it meant, when Dean wanted to sleep like this. Their sleeping positions were often in reverse to what might be expected; when Dean was feeling calm and confident and in control, he was usually happy to be 'vulnerable' with Sam, leaning on Sam's shoulder or Sam's chest, or letting Sam be the big spoon. Yet when he actually _was_ feeling vulnerable, he needed Sam to be the little brother, he needed to Sam to seek comfort from him, and he wanted Sam to allow Dean to feel like he was caring for and protecting him. It was Dean's way of trying to gain more control or stability in a situation, so that he didn't look too weak.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, with Sam slowly relaxing into Dean's embrace, unable to stop the flood of happiness at being able to cuddle with Dean again, but also sensing that there was something else to come, like there was something else to deal with.

Dean's breathing got heavier, and he shifted around a couple of times, as though he were a little uncomfortable, and he raised his right hand a couple of times, like he was about to run his fingers through Sam's hair, but he kept hesitating at the last second.

"We really gonna do this, every night?"

The question was asked in barely more than a whisper, but Sam still heard it clearly.

At those words, Sam was sure that he finally understood what this was all about: Dean had been trying to slowly and discreetly ease them into more regular cuddling, and at first he had freaked out because Sam hadn't seemed happy about it; but then, by telling Dean that he was more comfortable in double beds, and pretty much forcing Dean into getting one at this motel to prove his point, Sam had made this situation more real, more public, more _permanent_, pushing towards a change in their routine, a rewrite of their unspoken rules, maybe even a change in their dynamic, and _that_ had freaked Dean out even more, especially when the two of them had only recently come to terms with the fact that they enjoyed sleeping so close together.

It didn't even matter if they both enjoyed it though, because any change in dynamic was still worthy of a freak out from either of them, especially after so many years of covering up emotions and feelings and viewing the need for affection as a weakness. Anyway, there was a difference between an unspoken agreement to cuddle more often when they had the opportunity, and a conscious decision to ask for double beds so that the cuddling could become a regular thing.

Knowing Dean, he had probably headed out to the bar so that he could try to work himself up to asking Sam if the cuddling was going to be a permanent fixture in their lives from now on, no doubt using a few beers to help settle his nerves.

Yet Sam felt like he could deal with a question like that now; he felt like it would be easier than a decision to never cuddle again.

"It doesn't have to be every night, if that's not what you want," he told Dean with a grin, trying to sound reassuring, and at the same time breathing another sigh of relief. "And it's not like there has to be a plan or a routine behind it, and we can change things whenever we want."

He thought about all the reasons why they would need separate beds. A few of the reasons were social ones, but most of them were based around the knowledge that there were times when they argued and then ignored each other, times when they had really difficult hunts, times when they were on the road for days, with no other interactions, and they started to drive each other crazy.

"We need our space, sometimes," Sam continued to reassure Dean, deciding to leave it at that vague and general explanation, rather than going into detail. "I just meant that when we do…you know…this,"-he suddenly realized that neither of them ever said the word 'cuddling' out loud to describe what they were doing-"it's more comfortable in a double bed. And…uh…I don't mind, if we do it more often, because it's not like we don't enjoy it, right? And uh...it's cool if you keep asking for, you know, double beds...if you want."

Sam noticed that Dean blushed a little, but even though he looked kind of embarrassed, he nodded, slowly, like he got it, like Sam's suggestion was easier to deal with right now than the 'every night' possibility, then he sort of grinned, and ran a hand affectionately through Sam's hair.

They fell into silence, but Sam hoped that this silence was a more comfortable one.

"Bedtime?" Sam asked hesitantly, breaking the silence by using their new night-time code word to check that Dean was okay, that _this _was going to be okay, that they could both fall asleep peacefully in this position now, and that they weren't going to argue in the morning.

"Double bed time," Dean responded, pulling Sam in closer, before they started to drift off to sleep.

* * *

><p>*(<strong>Notes<strong>) So, I decided to write a follow up to the first chapter, because I still think that Dean would be _Dean_ in situations like this, even though he secretly loves cuddling with Sam, and also because I feel like there can never be enough fanfiction focusing on Winchester cuddles. :)


	3. Time for a Slumber Party

Time for a Slumber Party

* * *

><p>Dean stood silently in the doorway of Sam's single room in their recently-rented cabin, watching his little brother sleep.<p>

He knew that it might sound a little creepy, if he heard about anyone else doing the same thing, but when it came to Sam, this was something that Dean had done since they were both kids, especially the times when they ended up sleeping in different rooms.

Even when they were sleeping in the same motel room, or in the same bed, which they had pretty much been doing every night for the past few months, Dean still found it reassuring to lay awake for a little while, letting his big brother instincts take over as he checked that Sam was definitely okay, that he seemed comfortable and that he wasn't yelling out in his sleep like he was having nightmares, before Dean would finally allow himself to drift off to sleep as well.

He also found it reassuring, listening to the soft and steady sound of Sam's breathing while his little brother slept, and it always served as a reminder to Dean that Sam was still by his side, that he wasn't going to leave again, and that the two of them were still in this crazy life together.

Maybe he even felt a little protected as well, having Sam so close to him at night, running his hands calmingly up and down Dean's back as he started to fall asleep, discreetly reminding him that he wasn't going to be hunting alone any time soon. Yet after years of being Sam's protective older brother, it wasn't like he could ever admit any of that to Sam out loud.

Dean tensed a little when Sam stirred in his sleep, mumbling something that sounded a lot like, "De…"

He only breathed a sigh of relief when Sam started snoring softly again.

The whole watching-Sam-while-he-slept thing might have been something that he'd done enough times for both of them to consider it normal in the past, but tonight, on the first night in what felt like a long time that circumstances had forced them into two separate beds and two separate bedrooms, Dean _really_ didn't want to get caught anywhere near Sam's room.

He knew that if Sam woke up and saw him standing in the doorway, it might kind of look as though Dean were now acting like such a chick that he couldn't sleep in his own room, or that he _needed_ Sam to soothe him to sleep, or, the most embarrassing implication, that he couldn't get to sleep without Sam being right next to him in his bed and without all the closeness that they shared now. Which wasn't true, it really wasn't. He was a hunter, dammit, and an adult. He could totally deal with Sam being in a separate room for one night. Sort of. And they only slept so close together anyway because _Sam _initiated the contact every single time. Kind of.

Anyway, he knew that he should be grateful that they were staying in the cabin in the first place, taking a well-deserved break from hunting. He might have argued with Sam when his brother first suggested the time off and the cabin stay, mainly because he was now so conditioned, after years of hunting, to feel guilty every time he stepped away from his and Sam's job, but they'd been arguing so much anyway for the past couple of weeks that Sam just shrugged off Dean's complaints, reminding Dean that their constant arguing and exhaustion after their hunts was the reason why they needed this break _in the first place_.

Dean hadn't gone down without a fight; he had disagreed and sulked and grumbled and found plenty of semi-plausible reasons why it wouldn't be a good idea to take a break, but Sam had either ignored him or found a counter argument to all of Dean's reasons, causing Dean to eventually back down.

However, the moment that they pulled up in the Impala and Sam opened the door to the cabin, Dean felt kind of glad that he had let Sam win the argument about taking a break for a couple of days.

"We havin' a slumber party?"

It had been the first sarcastic question that came to mind when Sam first led him inside, smiling as he unpacked bags of Dean's favourite food and movies and Dean took a good look around, noticing all the blankets and brightly-coloured cushions on the sofa. Dean knew from experience that it was definitely easier to resort to mockery than it was to admit that he had been wrong about something, especially when admitting to being wrong usually led to chick-flick moments.

Sam might have rolled his eyes at Dean's comment and told Dean to shut up, but even though neither of them would seriously admit it out loud, their evening kind of did turn into a slumber party; they ate a load of junk food, then they watched movies, sitting close together on the sofa and sharing a bowl of popcorn.

Sam had fallen asleep at some point during the third movie they watched, moving closer and closer to Dean on the sofa as he slept until Dean just rolled his eyes and reached out to pull Sam right to him, so that Sam was practically snoring on top of Dean with his head resting on Dean's shoulder.

Dean had then started running his hands through Sam's hair-it was something that he'd done so many times recently that it had now become a habit, or a basic instinct-until he grinned to himself and started sort of braiding Sam's hair, already planning his jokes on how he was keeping to the slumber party theme the moment Sammy woke up.

Sam had looked kind of annoyed when he eventually opened his eyes, sat up and realized what Dean had done to his hair, especially when Dean started laughing, his hand over his stomach because the sight of Sam with his hair in braids had suddenly seemed so hilarious that his stomach was actually starting to hurt, and he just managed to choke out, "Hey, don't blame me, dude; I thought you _wanted_ us to have a girly slumber party!"

That comment had earned Dean a cushion to his face, and then laughter from Sam as Dean spluttered in shock.

There was just enough time for Dean to mutter, "It's on, bitch!" before they were both trying to hit each other with the nearest sofa cushions, with Dean hoping that Sam wouldn't admit out loud that they were basically having a childish pillow fight. It wasn't long before they gave up throwing cushions and the remains of the popcorn, and the whole thing quickly escalated into a full-contact play fight, or a wrestling match, as Dean called it in his head to make it sound a little more manly.

They had eventually called a truce when they were both out of breath, and they remained on the floor, panting, for a little while.

Dean had chanced a few looks at his little brother, and every time he looked at him out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Sam was grinning, and his cheeks were flushed pink. It was the way Sam had always looked when they were kids and he was actually having a good time, like when they played games in their motel rooms or when they had snowball fights in the winter.

Dean couldn't help grinning as well, feeling relieved that they were getting along better, and also glad that they'd started the whole shared bed thing; it was like it had taken down one of their many invisible barriers, and allowed them to be a little more affectionate with one another in their every day lives, as well as at night. He was pretty certain that they wouldn't have even thought about affectionate wrestling matches a few months ago.

It was only when Sam had yawned a few too many times and they both decided to go to bed that Dean realized they would be sleeping in separate rooms in the cabin.

Sam had shrugged and looked all apologetic (and maybe even a little disappointed, unless Dean was imagining it), and he had mumbled something about how there hadn't been much choice of places to stay, because they left it until the last minute, and this cabin with its two single rooms had been the last one available for the weekend; but Dean had simply shrugged and told Sam not to worry about it, at the same time silently trying to fight off a weird sense of something that felt suspiciously like disappointment.

He had said goodnight to Sam and then he spent the whole time he was getting ready for bed in his own room silently trying to reassure himself that it really wasn't a big deal, that he didn't need the close contact with Sam every single night, and that he _definitely_ wasn't craving it.

He would almost have managed to convince himself, if he hadn't then spent at least an hour tossing and turning in his single bed, throwing the pillows onto the floor and then picking them up and holding them close before throwing them out again, feeling like such a chick. One minute, he was too hot, then he was too cold, then the blanket was too heavy, then the mattress was too uncomfortable, then he started thinking about how the bed didn't smell like Sam, and the pillows didn't feel like Sam, and he had given up and angrily thrown the covers on the floor, almost missing the days when he and Sam had slept in separate beds every night and their sleeping arrangements hadn't been so complicated, before he sighed and headed to Sam's room.

"Dean?"

Dean really struggled to suppress a gasp (albeit a very manly gasp) when the sound of Sam's voice startled him out of his thoughts and back into the present. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't even realized that Sam had woken up at some point.

He remained in the doorway, standing still as though frozen to the spot in shock and staring at Sam from across the room.

For what it was worth, Sam looked about as confused as Dean felt. He blinked a few times and tried to push himself up a little, leaning on his elbow so that he could stare at Dean.

"Shhh, go back to sleep," Dean tried, using his quiet-but-authoritative I'm-the-big-brother voice, even though he was already starting to panic.

Sam stared at Dean for a couple more seconds, and he looked so tired that Dean was half-convinced that he was just going to do what he said, but then the stubborn look crossed his face, and he titled his head to the side, like he was starting to wake up a little and really take in the situation.

Dean folded his arms and glared at Sam challengingly, using his body language and a stern expression to tell Sam that he'd better not laugh or state the obvious about why Dean was hanging around Sam's room instead of staying in his own.

Dean saw the expression on Sam's face gradually change to what seemed like a look of realization, and Dean had a feeling that even though Sam probably wasn't going to dare to mock him, he was probably screwed now anyway.

"You wanna, uh, cud-"

Dean felt himself tensing up all over again, and, as he tried not to blush, he silently willed Sam not to let his guard down just because he was still half-asleep and not as alert as usual and use the dreaded c-word.

They _never _used the c-word to describe what they were doing. Dean knew that the second one of them used it, they were both going to look like a couple of chicks, or little kids, and it would be almost impossible to put a manly spin on what was going on. And, even worse, every night that they decided to share a bed would end up turning into one big chick-flick moment, and Dean wasn't ready to deal with all of that embarrassment and emotion.

"Uh…I mean," Sam quickly continued, now looking a little more wary and alert and like he'd noticed the look of horror on Dean's face, "you look kinda cold, Dean. You wanna get in?"

He looked at Dean expectantly and shifted a little to the side, as far as he could go in the small single bed.

Dean remained in the doorway, feeling kind of worried that he would look too needy or desperate if he gave in, especially when they would be pretty much forced to sleep really close together in such a small bed, if neither of them wanted to end up on the floor.

But then Sam lifted the covers and patted the mattress invitingly, and Dean felt his resolve weakening. He sighed and walked towards the bed, as slowly as he could, so that he didn't look too eager. Now that he thought about it, he _was_ feeling a little cold.

"My bed was too uncomfortable," Dean mumbled as he got into bed with Sam, deciding that this was a workable excuse tonight for explaining what they were about to do, and that it might save some of his pride.

"Sure it was," Sam replied, sounding almost like he was going along with it.

Dean chose to ignore his brother's obvious smirk.

The second Dean's head touched the pillow, Sam pulled him in close. He moved around a little, like he was getting ready to do his vulnerable-little-brother-thing and bury his head in Dean's shoulder, like he was going to do Dean a favour and pretend that he was the one who really needed this, but Dean held out a hand to stop him, deciding instead that he was going to sleep with an arm draped around Sam and with his head on Sam's chest. He'd had a stressful night so far, trying and failing to get to sleep in an uncomfortable bed, and dealing with Sam not being within arm's reach like usual, and he felt like he needed the comfort tonight, like he needed Sam to be strong and solid and reassuring.

It didn't take him long to find the right position, even though he had to ignore Sam's expression of surprise and then an expression that was definitely a mixture of fondness and amusement.

Dean instantly felt the tension leave his body as he wrapped an arm tightly around Sam's waist and he listened to the steady beat of Sam's heart underneath him.

He had a few memories of accidentally walking in on Sam when he had a woman in his bed, and he would always roll his eyes and make comments about how sappy the scene looked whenever he caught sight of whoever Sam happened to be sharing his bed with fast asleep with their head on Sam's chest. Now that he had started the whole double-bed-sleeping-close-together thing with Sam though, he had to admit, if only to himself in his most private thoughts, that he _totally_ got why all of those chicks always looked so comfortable using Sam's chest as a pillow.

He sighed again, not sure whether he was breathing a sigh of relief because he finally felt calm and comfortable, or if it was a sigh of concern because it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was getting really dependent on the whole bed-sharing thing with Sam, and it was fast becoming a weird addiction.

It was so much easier, back in the beginning, when he could pretend that it was just Sam who liked it, when he could pretend that he was doing Sam a favour by 'giving in' and sleeping so close to him, when he could secretly pull Sam towards him when Sam fell asleep on the sofa or silently edge towards Sam in bed at night and then somehow make it look like Sam's fault. Now, Dean knew that he looked equally responsible for all of this.

Dean couldn't help worrying about what would happen if they had to go on different hunts and stay at separate motels in the near future, meaning that he wouldn't be able to have this every night with Sam, or worse, if he and Sam had a really serious argument, or if Sam left-

"I'm not going anywhere, Dean," Sam whispered, and Dean wondered-not for the first time-if Sam could actually read his thoughts. "Now shut up and relax."

"Bitch," Dean muttered, trying not to grin and make it seem too obvious how much Sam's reassurance meant to him.

"Jerk," Sam replied, but he pulled Dean in closer as he spoke, giving him an affectionate squeeze and making Dean feel all comfortable all over again.

They fell into silence, and Sam started running one of his hands through Dean's hair, with Dean feeling a rush of affection as Sam used the gentle touches that Dean had used when Sam was a kid and he was trying to soothe him to sleep. Sam had made a few comments about how he'd always wanted to imitate Dean when they younger, but Dean had never thought that this was one of the actions that he'd be recreating when they were adults.

Sam's hand moved from Dean's hair to his neck, then his fingers traced gentle patterns up and down Dean's back, and Dean really had to struggle not to make his sigh of contentment seem too obvious.

All of this was kind of new, the additional soft touches and the back and neck stroking. Dean knew that they were definitely getting more and more affectionate as they shared more and more beds and that they were indulging in more of the touchy-feely crap, like even more walls were falling down between them and their invisible boundaries were starting to crumble. He wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or terrified.

"You comfortable?" Sam asked, with a touch of concern in his voice, like he had sensed a little tension behind Dean's happy sighs.

"Hmm," Dean replied, already half-asleep. "Love this…"

He didn't even think about what he had said at first, because he was so tired and too contented to think coherently, but then his mind suddenly seemed to get with the program as the words played back in his head and he realized what he'd just unintentionally admitted. He opened his eyes wide in shock, his body now fully alert as he moved away from Sam a little and he desperately tried to come up with something funny to finish that sentence with, or some kind of smart remark to cancel out any potential sappiness.

"Yeah," Sam replied quickly as he insistently pulled Dean back towards him. "I always knew that you secretly loved slumber parties, dude."

Dean felt the imaginary knot in his chest slowly unravel at Sam's comment. He got it, he knew what Sam had just done, and he couldn't help placing a soft kiss to Sam's neck, silently thanking him for saving him from the embarrassment, for deflecting what he'd just said on to something else, and for giving Dean an out.

"You wish," Dean could help responding as he pinched Sam's side.

But then he felt more than saw the smile on Sam's face, and Dean couldn't help smiling as well, before he returned to his comfortable position on Sam's chest, feeling like they were okay again, like their balance of manly pride had been restored for a little while.

It didn't take Dean long before he started to drift off to sleep again. As he fell asleep, he decided that he and Sam definitely needed to make the time to have more slumber parties.


End file.
